Song of the Heart - Alexa Aston Page 0,52

hand.

As Lyssa distracted Evan with her chatter and the kitten, Madeleine nodded to Lord Montayne. He grabbed the top while she slipped a hand on each side of Evan’s head, gently pushing on the bucket as the nobleman tried to wiggle it off.

“Yow!” Evan hollered as his wooden helmet came free. A rough, red stripe creased his forehead, surrounded by globs of grease coating his thick, unruly hair. Lyssa giggled. The infectious sound spread and the entire group gathered began bubbling with laughter. Evan looked sheepish but even he joined in the fun.

“You’re a mess, Evan,” Madeleine told him. “We’d better clean you up.”

“I’ll take care of him, Madeleine,” Edgar said, yanking the boy to his feet. “Come with me, young man. We’ll have you fit and fine in no time.”

After one more stroke for the kitten, Evan trotted off.

Madeleine sighed and turned to Lord Montayne, nervous to meet his eyes.

He gave her a brilliant smile. “We make quite the team, Madeleine.”

“Thank you, my lord.” She swallowed hard. “I fear you’ll need a change of clothes, as well.”

He wiped some of the excess fat still on his hands upon the grass. “That’s no problem, Madeleine. We’ll just plan on starting Lyssa’s lessons tomorrow.” He grinned at her. “Go freshen yourself up. You can’t play your lute with slippery fingers.”

She observed the greasy smears covering her tunic and her sticky hands. “Good advice, my lord.”

*

The next few days sped by quickly. Madeleine took part in the dramas several times a day, checking in on Gwenith between performances. During her longer break, when York acted as narrator, she spent time inside the castle with Lyssa. She was amazed at the talent the young girl possessed.

In one short week, Lyssa had caught on quickly to different chords on the lute and could already play a few simple songs. They also practiced painting and, for her young age, Lyssa showed promise.

The earl attended every lesson in the small, sunny room provided for their instruction. He never interfered during the lessons but his dark eyes constantly burned as he watched her working with his daughter. Madeleine wished she could forget his presence and, instead, lose herself in conversation with Lyssa.

This proved to be impossible.

Lord Montayne commanded any room he sat in, whether he spoke or not. She continually found herself out of breath, the rhythm of her heart beating erratically, though she’d done nothing strenuous. She couldn’t understand why she had trouble breathing when he was nearby, much less why she became clumsy in his presence.

She concluded their lesson for the day, ready to spend a little time alone before she returned to the faire.

“Here, Lyssa, let me clean those brushes.” She took them from the girl’s hands before she made a mess. “Why don’t you and your papa go find Luke?”

Lyssa giggled. “Cook got mad at Luke again. He licked all the cream off a pie.”

Madeleine laughed. “Then you’d better go rescue him before he finds more mischief.” She gave Lyssa a push toward the door and began to tidy up. She waited for Lord Montayne to follow his daughter, but he remained seated.

“My lord, mayhap you should think of hiring a tutor for Lyssa. Someone skilled in the fine arts. One day, Lyssa will be designing tapestries for the walls in the great hall and weaving them herself. She may even paint portraits of the family and important visitors.”

“And sing for their entertainment in the evenings,” he added.

“Yes, she will. I’m sure your guests would enjoy her music.”

Garrett scowled. “We rarely have guests at Stanbury.”

Madeleine was taken aback. He hadn’t been abrupt with her since she’d come to Stanbury. She knew his fierce reputation, though, having overheard talk of the Earl of Montayne’s black moods. He was curt and demanding toward servants, drank far too much, was a hard man in business, and rode out after highwaymen spotted in the area. Some had disappeared, while some lived to tell tales of horror before they escaped.

She had not witnessed that side of him since the mummers had arrived at his estate. He had been polite and, in the company of his daughter, even lighthearted.

“I did not realize, my lord,” she said.

“My apologies, Madeleine. I shouldn’t have been gruff with you. We . . . have a bit of an odd situation here at Stanbury.”

Madeleine knew it had to do with his wife. She remembered Ashby mentioning how the marriage had changed him. She knew not if Lynnette was dead or merely away on a